


Drizzle

by Twice_before_Friday



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Bombs, Emotions, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22922818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday
Summary: "So, you have the Devil-" Bright begins, but freezes at the muted click that sounds through the car as soon as Gil hits the seat. Malcolm and Gil exchange a wide-eyed look as they both freeze in place, not even breathing, the air feeling suddenly very thin in the small space. Too many years on the job have accustomed them to the unmistakable sound of a pressure switch, and they both instinctively know that there is a bomb in the car.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright
Comments: 33
Kudos: 159





	Drizzle

Drizzle.

Days and days of drizzle.

The kind that permeates the air and soaks through clothing and makes umbrellas obsolete because it seems to come from all angles. 

The kind that lends a grey cast to the streets that the headlights and the streetlights do nothing to diminish, somehow just intensifying the dreary gloom instead.

The kind that tips the typical New Yorker from New York Attitude to downright miserable in the amount of time it takes for the water to puddle in their shoes. 

But then there's Bright.

Gil stalks out of the precinct with his scarf wrapped snug around his throat, shoulders hunched up to his ears as he tries to keep the water from dripping down the back of his neck on the short walk to the car. Bright, on the other hand, is bounding along beside him with an actual skip in his step, seemingly unaware of the rain at all in his excitement to get to the crime scene.

"Ornamental fountains spurting champagne, Gil!" Bright says cheerily, spinning to walk backwards a few steps in front of the Lieutenant so he can look at the man as he speaks. "Our killer is putting an inordinate amount of time and effort into making his crime scenes resemble some of the most iconic parties in classic literature. It's fascinating."

"Not the word I'd use, kid."

Bright ignores the muttered comment as he continues excitedly expounding upon the case. "First we had a scene set up to look like one of Jay Gatsby's lavish parties from The Great Gatsby, complete with vintage period attire. Then we had the Mad-Hatter's tea party from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which displayed, amongst other references, an absurd number of place settings and tea services, not to mention an actual dormouse!"

Much to Gil's delight, they reach the car as Malcolm is recapping the last two murder scenes, Bright laying his hands on the wet roof of the car where he stands at the passenger side, as he says with wide eyes, "And now, The Master and Margarita!"

Gil thinks that he should be concerned about the kid's enthusiasm for these crime scenes, but mostly he's just relieved to see him happy for a change. After everything that happened with John Watkins, Bright had been...off. Not that Gil blames him. Being kidnapped, stabbed and having your family threatened with an axe would be difficult enough for anyone to deal with, but once Bright's past is factored in, Gil thinks it's a miracle that Malcolm came out sane and only moderately-scathed, as Malcolm likes to remind him. But since then, he hadn't seen him really engage. Until now.

Gil shakes his head, raindrops scattering at the movement, and throws Malcolm a fond smile from where he stands at the driver's side door. "Can't say I've read that one. How about you brief me on the way to the scene?"

Malcolm's eyes light up at the offer, and he quickly drops himself into the car in anticipation of filling Gil in on the Devil's Walpurgis Night celebration. Gil rolls his eyes as he pulls the door open and steps one foot inside, lowering himself into the beautiful dryness of the car.

"So, you have the Devil-" Bright begins, but freezes at the muted click that sounds through the car as soon as Gil hits the seat. Malcolm and Gil exchange a wide-eyed look as they both freeze in place, not even breathing, the air feeling suddenly very thin in the small space. Too many years on the job have accustomed them to the unmistakable sound of a pressure switch, and they both instinctively know that there is a bomb in the car.

Malcolm's brain seems to do a hard reset, completely shutting down for several seconds before slowly booting back up. He blinks rapidly as his mind finally catches up and his training can kick in.

"Don't move," Malcolm says quietly. "Don't even shift in your seat."

Gil blows out an unsteady breath and keeps himself from telling Malcolm that he's well aware of what not to do. He's sitting awkwardly with one foot still outside the car on the wet pavement and the other foot down by the break pedal where his dripping pant cuff is already leaving a puddle on the floor mat. The door is half open and Gil's hand is still wrapped around the inside handle, which leaves his left arm and leg out in the cold rain, soaking through pant and coat sleeve in the relentless drizzle.

"Call bomb squad and get them over here now," Gil says, unable to help the tremor in his voice. His hands clench into tight fists, white-knuckled grips on the door handle and the steering wheel as he forces himself to stay still and ignore his body's basic instincts which are screaming at him to run.

Malcolm reaches slowly into his pocket to retrieve his phone, unsure just how sensitive to movement the bomb is. He pulls out the phone and, despite Gil’s instructions, opens the camera first. Very, very slowly, he reaches across the car and lowers the lens to beneath Gil's seat. They both hold their breath as he moves, and Gil's slight flinch at the sound of the camera shutter actually startles them both. Just as slowly, Malcolm pulls the phone back towards himself and they look at the picture shining brightly on the screen. Slightly out of frame and at a clumsy angle is the very clear makings of a bomb.

Gil curses under his breath at the confirmation of what he already suspected while Bright switches to his contacts and calls Dani. He switches the phone to speaker and holds it in a trembling hand that he needs to rest against his thigh for support in order to keep it from falling from his grip. She picks up on the third ring.

"Hey Bright, what's up?" she says. The hum of an engine and passing traffic can be heard coming in tinny bursts through the speaker around her words.

"Dani. Gil and I are in his car in the precinct parking lot," Malcolm is a bit surprised how steady his voice sounds, all things considered, and presses on, unfaltering. "We need Bomb Squad here now, and the immediate area needs to be evacuated. There's a bomb under Gil's seat."

There's a second of silence before Dani breathes out, "Jesus. Are you sure?" They hear her repeating the news to JT, followed by a string of inventive swearing and the screech of brakes on rain-slick pavement.

"We're not far out," Dani says. "I'll call Bomb Squad on our way back. Just, hold tight." The line disconnects before Malcolm even has a chance to respond. He carefully slips his phone back into his pocket and takes a slow deep breath before turning his head to face Gil.

"We need to stay calm and still. It's possible that the bomb will only detonate when you stand up, but it's also possible that the smallest movement could trigger it." Malcolm keeps his voice low and level, the way he was trained to talk to anyone involved in a hostage situation. But it isn't just anyone. It's Gil. And because of that, Malcolm's heart is pumping so hard in his chest that for just a second, he's worried that it might be enough to set off the bomb.

"Yeah, kid. I know," Gil says quietly, looking over his shoulder at Malcolm and seeing the fear in the profiler's eyes, sure it's a mirror of what Malcolm is seeing in his own eyes right now. 

Gil doesn't want to die. But more than that, he's terrified that Bright is about to be caught up in something that was clearly meant to target Gil himself. If there was a way that he could use his body to shield Malcolm from the blast, Gil would do it in a heartbeat. But since he doesn't know how big the blast will be, he quickly realizes the best option is to get Bright away from the car.

"Bright. The bomb is under my seat and didn’t activate when you sat down. If you move very slowly and very carefully, you can probably get out of the car without triggering it," Gil says evenly, the swirl of emotions raging through him coalescing into one single thought: get Malcolm as far away from the blast radius as possible. 

"Gil. I'm not leaving. And neither of us is moving until Bomb Squad clears us."

Malcolm knows what Gil is trying to do, and he understands it. He does. If there was any way that Malcolm could trade places with Gil so that he was in the hot seat rather than Gil, he'd do it without hesitation. Gil is the only person in his life that has ever loved him unconditionally and he's nearly overtaken by a fear that he can feel in his bones, in his soul, that he's about to lose him.

"Bright, please." Gil pleads. "I need you safe."

"I'm not leaving," Bright glares at Gil, a look that Gil recognizes from two decades spent with the kid. It's the look that means he won't back down, and Gil knows there's no changing Malcolm's mind when he get like this.

"Dammit kid," Gil mutters and drops his head to his chest.

It's only a matter of minutes before JT's car squeals into the parking lot, stopping just inside the entrance. Dani jumps out of the car before it's even stopped and runs towards the Le Mans.

"Stay back!" Gil shouts out the half open door and Malcolm can see the man's shoulders pulling even tighter as the thought of losing his entire team in the blink of an eye becomes a very real possibility. Dani slows from a sprint to a cautious walk at the warning, but still makes her way forward, and JT jogs up beside her as she gets within a dozen feet of the driver's side.

"Hey guys, how you holding up?" Dani says, concern etched deep into the lines on her face.

"Both of you need to get back. Now," Gil says commandingly, and when neither of the detectives moves adds, "That's an order."

"Sorry boss. You can write me up when this is over, but we need to see what we're dealing with." JT says, inching his way closer to the car and pulling his phone out.

Malcolm shifts forward gingerly to look around Gil and see exactly what Dani and JT are doing. He can't help but notice how the rain is already waterlogging Dani's hair, pulling it down heavily into her face, but she just pushes it aside and ignores it, eyes focused intently on JT. Malcolm follows Dani's gaze to the detective as he makes his way closer, crouching down and wedging himself between the body of the car and the open door, careful not to nudge Gil's leg or arm in the process.

"Dammit JT, leave it to the Bomb Squad and get the hell out of here."

JT ignores Gil completely as he sets his phone to record and carefully maneuvers it around the bottom of the seat, starting at the side and working around Gil's left leg to get a shot from the front as well.

"Bomb squad is 10 minutes out," Dani fills them in as JT records, her fingers twisting in knots as she keeps her voice loud enough to be heard over the almost melodic sound of the rain where it hits the car and echoes lightly in the small space. "Level one mobilization and ESU are en route. The surrounding buildings are being cleared and a one block perimeter is being established right now."

Malcolm is impressed with how much the detectives have managed in the few minutes since he'd called Dani, but he knows that the two of them would move heaven and earth to get Gil out of this safely, and he feels a swell of gratitude that they’re the ones taking charge of the situation.

JT pulls his phone back and rises to his feet, taking a step back as he reviews the footage with a hand hovering over the screen in an attempt to shelter it from the ceaseless rainfall.

"It's definitely homemade and it looks pretty amateur," JT concludes from the recording. "The good news is that there probably aren't any dummy wires or back-ups. I'd be willing to bet our bomb maker doesn't have the experience for that. I saw more complicated IEDs assembled by kids when I was deployed."

"That's...disturbing," Malcolm says.

"What's the bad news?" Gil asks at the same time.

JT runs a hand over his face, trying to clear off some of the water that's dripping into his eyes, only to have more droplets immediately replace those he shakes off. "Amateur explosives are generally less stable and more likely to go off unintentionally," he says with a grimace.

"Okay," Gil lets that settle onto the back burner of his mind, knowing that worrying about it isn't going to get him anywhere. "I want both of you back behind the perimeter line until Bomb Squad clears the area. Keep in touch with Bright by phone for the time being." He looks pointedly over at Bright as he adds, "As soon as they say it's safe, Bright will be joining you."

"We're not just going to leave you," Dani protests, shoving her wet locks out of her face once again.

"Yes. You are. Now." Gil's tone brooks no argument, but it's the pleading look he shoots them that makes them agree, reluctantly moving back to the edge of the parking lot to wait for Bomb Squad to arrive.

Malcolm and Gil sit in silence for a moment, each of them working through the sudden and unexpected influx of emotions into their day. Gil quickly works his way past fear, briefly touches on sadness and regret, but eventually settles fully and uncomfortably into a guilt so intense that it feels like it's trying to rip him apart from the inside. This bomb is obviously meant for him, but how many others will die if it goes off right now? And if Malcolm doesn't survive...

Bright is watching Gil closely, trying to gauge the state of the man's psyche and notices as his head droops forward while his eyebrows arch outwards and his mouth draws into a tight line. After all the years they've spent together, Malcolm knows exactly how Gil wears his guilt and recognizes the signs immediately. He wants to tell Gil that it isn't his fault, that he can't possibly be holding himself responsible for this, but he also knows Gil well enough to know that saying it won't help him shake the feeling.

"So. Any idea who you pissed off enough that they risked planting a bomb in your car in the precinct parking lot?" Malcolm asks, relying on distraction to steer Gil away from a spiral of guilt.

Gil huffs out a breath and turns his head to face Malcolm more fully. "It's gonna be a pretty long list to work through. We put away a lot of bad guys that would be happy to see me dead. And unfortunately we don't save everyone, which leaves a lot of families behind that blame me for their loss. You know how it goes."

"Any especially vitriolic hate mail lately?" Malcolm asks, angling his upper body a bit further forward to ease the strain on Gil's neck.

"Nothing unusual."

"We should still have Dani and JT start combing through it. See if anything jumps out. You keep them?"

"Physical letters are in the bottom drawer of my desk in a file labeled 'fan mail'," he fights back a smile as Malcolm chuckles in response. "Emails are kept in a sub-folder labeled 'threats'. Bright, you know you should be the one reading through them. If there are any hints as to who did this, you're going to be the one to spot them."

Malcolm pulls out his phone and sends a rapid fire text to JT and Dani telling them where to look and what to look for, not even deigning to reply to Gil's implication that he should leave the car. By the time he finishes sending the text, the large white Police Bomb Squad truck is pulling up on the street, stopping at the mouth of the parking lot and within minutes a man in an explosive ordnance disposal suit is lumbering towards the driver’s side of the car.

"Lieutenant Arroyo?" The man asks, slightly muffled through the transparent face mask protecting his face. Gil nods and the man looks over at Malcolm. "Mr. Bright?" At Malcolm's nod the man introduces himself. "I'm Sergeant Poletto and I'm going to take a look at what's going on here, okay? And hopefully we'll have you out of here in no time. In the meantime, if you can stay as still as you can unless I tell you otherwise, that'd be super."

The man's laid back attitude immediately makes Malcolm and Gil feel slightly more relaxed, Gil's death grip on the door handle loosening ever so slightly, leaving his hand, which was almost numb from the crushing grip and freezing drizzle, tingling with pins and needles at the minor movement.

Sergeant Poletto uses a telescopic handle with a mirror and a small camera at the end to examine the bomb under the seat, narrating his findings via intercom to his team at the truck. It's a thorough and time consuming process but he eventually moves from analyzing beneath the seat to check out the undercarriage of the car, Gil and Malcolm following his movements anxiously. Numerous passes around the car brings the Sergeant back to Gil's door.

"Alright gentlemen, I'm going to head back to the truck just for a few minutes so my team and I can review the footage and we can decide how best to get you out of here," he says with an easy smile. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go? Any concerns you need me to address first?"

Gil looks over to Malcolm, who just shakes his head in response and Gil turns back to the Sergeant. "Honestly. How's it look?"

"Honestly?" Sergeant Poletto replies seriously, "If all goes well, you'll be out of here in time for lunch. It's a simple bomb Lieutenant, dollars to donuts it was built following an online tutorial. I can't promise anything, but this is basic training stuff."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Gil says, shoulders slumping in relief. 

The Sergeant gives a brisk nod and turns to leave, before suddenly turning back and coming to the opening in Gil's door. "Almost forgot," he chuckles as he leans forward and places a gloved hand on Gil's wrist, prompting him to release his uneasy grip on the door handle. Gil slowly lets go and the Sergeant places Gil's hand on his lap, inside the car and out of the worst of the rain. "Might as well get a little more comfy while you wait. Back in a tick!" he calls over his shoulder as he walks away.

"He seems nice," Malcolm says lightly just as his phone rings. Malcolm swipes to answer, holding the phone out between him and Gil. "JT, I have you on speaker. What have you found?"

"I just shot you a still from the surveillance cam at the front of the precinct. We got a sketchy looking dude out front earlier this morning with a backpack that looks pretty heavy as he goes by, and then seems substantially lighter as he leaves. Anyone you recognize?" JT asks.

Malcolm pulls up the picture and angles the phone for Gil to see the photo more clearly. Gil squints at the black and white still, eyes widening in surprise when he recognizes the man.

"Yeah," Gil answers, running his newly freed and tingling hand over his goatee. "Nine or ten years ago I worked a case trying to catch a crew of bank robbers. One of the heists went badly and a hostage died. Jesse Toews was the only one we caught, and I couldn't get him to flip on the rest of his crew. He went down for manslaughter, even though he wasn't the one that pulled the trigger."

"Alright, we'll look into that and get back to you. How's it going with the bomb?" JT asks, concern nearly tangible over the phone line.

"Apparently we should be making lunch plans," Malcolm declares. "Sergeant Poletto assures us we'll be out shortly."

"Poletto's good people," JT says brusquely. "If he says you'll be out by lunch, I'll make a reservation at that place down the street that you like. The one with the avocado thing. My treat."

Malcolm laughs and Gil shakes his head, smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as Bright ends the call.

"Apparently we're going for lunch," Malcolm chuckles as he slips the phone back in his pocket.

"Bright. Listen," Gil says seriously. "When it comes time to get moving, I want you out of the car and behind the perimeter before I try to get out."

"Gil, I already told you, I'm not leaving you."

"For fuck's sake, Malcolm, just do as you're told for once in your life!" Gil yells, slamming his hand against the steering wheel.

The outburst comes as a complete surprise to Malcolm, and he startles back in his seat, eyeing Gil speculatively as the man drops his head and takes several deep breaths to regain control of himself.

"I'm sorry," Gil whispers with his eyes closed, but Malcolm notices how tightly he's holding his jaw, physically keeping himself from saying something else.

"Gil?"

Gil continues breathing deeply for a moment before turning to face Malcolm.

"I'm sorry, Bright. I shouldn't have said that. But," Gil hesitates pressing his lips together for a moment before he continues. "I made a promise to keep you safe. And now you're sitting on top of a bomb because of something I did. I cannot lose you Bright."

Malcolm takes a moment before he answers. He thinks of all of the times Gil has been there for him throughout the last two decades, remembers everything Gil has done for him. He thinks of everything he owes the man that is more of a father to him than Martin Whitly ever was.

"Okay," Malcolm says and Gil's eyes widen in surprise. "I'll leave as soon Sergeant Poletto says it's safe."

"Really?" Gil asks unbelievingly.

"Look, do I want to leave you here alone? Of course not," Malcolm explains while rubbing his hands over his thighs. He and Gil love each other like family, neither of them doubt that, but they've never been the type to openly express their feelings. It doesn't come easily. "You have done so much for me in the last 20 years, and I know it's a debt I can never repay. But this is something I can do for you, even if I don't like it. So if you need me out of harm’s way right now, I'll leave."

Gil doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know if he's more surprised by the declaration or the fact that Bright is relenting and plans to do as Gil asked. Possibly for the first time ever. He wants to reach over and embrace the kid, let him know how much that means to him, but he can't risk moving. So he settles for a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Gil wants to say more but his attention is caught by Sergeant Poletto as he makes his way back towards them, some sort of robotic contraption rolling along beside him. He makes his way back to Gil's side and carefully opens the door all the way, dropping to one knee on the pavement to more easily talk to the men in the car.

"Alright boys, here's what's gonna happen. My friend Rod here," he gestures to the industrial looking machine beside him, "is going to slide it's arm out between the pressure plate and the seat. That's going to keep the plate down while you two get out of the car. Once everyone is clear, we'll have Rod carefully remove the bomb and put it into a bomb containment chamber so we can detonate it safely. How's that sound?"

"A little like science fiction, actually," Malcolm replies nervously as he glances down at Gil's seat.

The Sergeant chuckles lightly. "Yeah, no one ever expects a robot to save the day in real life, right? If it makes you feel better, my buddy Ari is over in the truck and he's the one behind the controls." The flat metal arm of the robot swipes side to side in imitation of a wave and Malcolm huffs out a laugh.

"Nice to meet you Ari," he says to the camera on the front of the robot.

"I want Bright out of the car first," Gil says to the Sergeant. "Is that possible?"

"Sure. As soon as the plate is compressed, we'll get Mr. Bright out first, and then you can follow behind," Sergeant Poletto says with a nod before rising to his feet and clearing the way for the machine to wheel in closer.

There's a series of whirs and ticks as the robot is lined up, and Gil's breath leaves him in a sharp exhale as the arm slides out and disappears beneath his seat. It's a terrifying few seconds before Sergeant Poletto gives the all clear to move. 

"Alright Mr. Bright, I want you to move very slowly, but it's time for you to exit the car."

Gil and Malcolm exchange a look that says everything they need to say to one another but can never find the words for, a look they've perfected over two decades. Malcolm cautiously opens the door and starts shifting slowly along the bench seat to exit the car, carefully opening the car door enough for him to squeeze through. Right as he's about to rise from the seat, Gil realizes that just in case it's the last time he ever sees the kid, he needs to actually say it. He needs to tell him all of those things that he knows Bright already knows, but that he hasn't said out loud.

"Malcolm?" Gil says quietly and Bright twists his body to look towards Gil. "I love you, kid. I'm proud of the man you've become. And I hope you've already figured it out, but you are nothing like your father. You're a good person and you deserve to be happy."

Bright blinks back tears at the statement, but it feels too much like a death-bed confession for his liking and he second guesses leaving Gil alone in the car. But Gil's broken "Please go" makes the decision for him and he nimbly rises to his feet, holding his breath and waiting for an explosion as his body leaves the seat, letting out a breathy chuckle when all he feels are cold drops of drizzle immediately soaking him to the bone. 

He leans down and sticks his head in the car, offering a quick, "I love you too, Gil" before turning and jogging to the Bomb Squad truck, knowing that the sooner he clears the area, the quicker Gil will be out of the car.

Gil drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, swallowing around the lump in his throat before turning back to face Sergeant Poletto with a nod.

"That was sweet but entirely unnecessary," the Sergeant says with a good natured smile. "Let's get you out of there now, hmm?"

At Sergeant Poletto's direction, Gil puts his weight on his left leg and pulls his upper body out of the car, rising from the seat as his heart pumps wildly in his chest. With some awkward twisting, he gets his right leg free of the car without bumping the robotic arm that's keeping the bomb from detonating, and suddenly he's standing outside in the glorious rain, face raised to the heavens as the water drenches him through, tears mixing inconspicuously with the droplets on his cheeks.

He’s feeling lightheaded with relief when a heavy hand on his shoulder brings him back to the here and now as Sergeant Poletto suggests "Let's get you back to your kid."

Gil's legs are a little wobbly, but the Sergeant supports him as they walk over to the truck to find Malcolm, Dani and JT all waiting anxiously. Dani throws her arms around Gil's waist as soon as he rounds the truck whispering "Thank God" into the soaked curve of his neck, letting out something that sounds conspicuously like a sob when Gil squeezes her just as tightly.

JT pulls him in for a manly hug as soon as Dani lets go, two pats on the back and a quick release, but Gil can see exactly how relieved he is through the tough exterior the man wears as armour.

Malcolm has stopped pacing and is chewing his lip as he watches, and Gil takes a few steps closer to reach out and put a comforting hand on the back of his neck before pulling him into a tight embrace, both men silently thanking the heavens for the safety of the other.

They break apart after a moment and the four of them turn to watch the bank of tv screens that they can just make out inside of the truck as the bomb containment chamber is wheeled out beside Gil’s car. The robot, at Ari's control, carefully removes the bomb from under the seat, swiveling to place the device in the chamber. Once the hatch is closed, the device is detonated. A low thud and a tremor throughout the body of the chamber are the only clues that the device has been neutralized and Gil feels a knot tying tightly in his stomach when he recognizes that something that so nearly killed both him and Bright ended with such an inconsequential and anticlimactic thud. He sinks down on the back of the truck, his trembling legs finally getting the best of him.

"Gil?" Malcolm says, concerned. 

"I'm good," he looks up and sees a number of worried looks aimed his way. He waves them off and takes a deep breath. "Just glad the Le Mans is okay," he says with a laugh, not quite ready to deal with the torrent of emotions bubbling through him.

He pushes himself to his feet as they wait for the Sergeant to make his way back over to them. The whole team offers a series of heartfelt and sincere 'thank yous' to the Bomb Squad, especially to Sergeant Poletto and Ari, with promises made for celebratory drinks later that night.

Sopping wet and shivering, they make their way back into the precinct, intending to dry off and change into the spare clothes that they all keep there for occasions just like this. They're only a few steps in the door when Malcolm spins to face the three detectives, a dawning realization spreading over his features.

"Fountains of champagne!" he says like it should have been obvious all along. Like the detectives ought to have a clue what he's talking about. Instead they all just stare at him like a drowned rat that just started speaking. "It's the caterer!"

Bright takes off towards the conference room.

Dani rolls her eyes.

JT looks longingly towards the locker room and mutters something distinctly unflattering under his breath.

Gil just smiles.

And all three of them follow Bright into the conference room, ready to catch their killer.


End file.
